Churchwomen helped usher in telephone

The introduction of the telephone to Mansfield in 1877 came not from business and civic leaders, but from the women’s society of the Congregational Church.

“Speaking telegraphs” had been tinkered with since the 1830s, but Alexander Graham Bell won the practical patent race in 1877. Now another race was on to profit from the new contraption, and the superintendent of Western Union Telegraph was eager to set up demonstrations.

The “telephone social” was planned for the church parlors, and an Aug. 23 article in the Mansfield Herald said, “The wonderful instrument with which language and music, instrumental and vocal, can be distinctly transmitted through many miles of wire, enabling one to converse with friends at a great distance with the same facility as though they were only across the street, will be on exhibition, and all may have an opportunity to test its marvelous powers.

“Besides the Telephone, there will also be provided by the ladies, ice-cream, cake, lemonade, etc. There will be an admission fee of 10 cents at the door, and no extra charge for witnessing the wonders of the Telephone. A small charge will be made for the refreshments.” Businesses were not the only ones looking for money-makers.

Coverage on Aug. 30 called the exhibition “a great success” when “relays of six persons at a time listened to the music and conversation” coming over 375 miles of coiled wire. It didn’t say how far away the singing quartet accompanied by piano and flute originated but called the resulting concert in the Congregational parlor “audible and well defined.”

An explanation of the process involved vibrations, metal plates and wire — lots of wire.

By May 1879, church had found a good use for the telephone, “a Blake transmitter” whose wires had been strung to the houses of several aged and invalid people.

“It surmounts a flowerpiece on the table in front of the open platform, a very unnoticeable position. The speaker pays no attention whatever to it, yet every word uttered in the auditorium is easily heard with entire distinctness in the in the rooms of the dwellings which the wires reach.

“The first communication from the minister was the Scripture: ‘The Lord is nigh unto thee’; His word runneth very swiftly.’”

Soon, there would be two-way communication but only between two places directly connected by wire — for example between a business and the owner’s home or between offices and operations within a business. In 1880, the Mansfield Telephone Exchange was in operation. A telephone subscriber could pick up the headset and be connected to a central office that could connect the caller to any other subscriber within the exchange and, later, to other exchanges.

The exchange was born on April 1 — no joke. Businesses paid $4.50 a month to be “on the phone,” and residences $3.50 a month “first half mile in air line with three or four residences on same wire.” Ah, party lines!

On Dec. 16, 1880, the Herald pontificated under a headline that just said, “HELLO!” — “It is singular how some people adapt themselves to radical changes. Today a thing may be new and startling in its originality, with mankind standing in wonder and incredulity, cautiously examining it. Tomorrow, they have not only adopted it, but are ready to growl and grumble because it is not better.

“A few months since if a person wished to communicate with a firm or person in a distant part of the city, he would either have to go and see him, send a messenger or write by mail, which methods would consume some time. Now all that is required is to step to the telephone, get off some ‘hello!’ business by way of preliminary and talk with the person as if you were standing face to face.”

Ah, the speed of progress! Now all we have to do is carry around our cellphones, press saved numbers and start talking, “Hello! Hello, are you there? You’re breaking up. I can’t hear you! OK, I’ll email (or text) instead. Goodbye!” Beep.

Next week: Transmitting sound was one thing; recording sound was another. Museums are increasingly interested in archiving what’s left of old records and tapes, especially noncommercial ones. Call it preserving the voices of the past.

Clarifications

• Aug. 24 column: A reader thought my reference to Louis Bromfield’s “1,000 acres” was not correct, saying it was more like 585 acres. According to a Jan. 14, 1939, News Journal story, Bromfield signed the papers that day to acquire from C.M. Herring and Frederick Beck “385 acres of land in Monroe Township, three houses, ten cows, two horses and all the equipment.” He must have added a bit here and there because a 1951 article said that Bromfield owned 850 acres but also farmed 120 acres for the conservancy district. After his death in 1956, “approximately 700 acres which make up Malabar Farm” were left in trust. The state park today, according to the official website, has “over 875 acres of public land.”

• Aug. 31 column: The quote saying Louis Bromfield loved to cook and taught her to prepare some dishes from India should be attributed to Jane Miller Culler, not her daughter, Joan Culler Walsh.

Peggy Mershon is a retired editor for the News Journal, where she also wrote columns on genealogy and antiques. Email her at marwelmer@aol.com.